Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. . . .Blah.Blah.Blah. .etc.etc.etc. Please don't sue...

A/N: Terribly sorry for the length of this chapter. I know it's so very short but I promise that that will not be the case in the upcoming future. That if you like d the story enough for me to carry on with it. Anyway , enjoy :)

Chapter one: Wake up, Sunshine

She left his room once again. She thought that she need to stop doing anything changed, she'd be the first to know. No need to check up on him every half an hour. yet she knew deep down that she could never accomplish that.

The walk back to her office was interrupted by Ron. Just like her, he was worried about how harry was doing. Things weren't good with him. Something was wrong and she was unable to help. She breathed in. He opened his mouth to utter something but was cut off. As if anticipating his question, she answered "still no progress"

"At least, we wouldn't know right away. The potion I gave him if it's the right one might take an hour to give any results but if it's not ..." she couldn't bring herself to think of the alternative and then she walked passed him. She needed to sit down.

He shook his head and followed her. "Hermione?"

"What?"She snapped. Her sharp statement surprised the both of them. And for the umpteenth time since the accident she held her tears and stopped them from falling.

His features softened and moved closer to her. He wasn't sure if she'd welcome an embrace from him so he didn't take any chances, so he simply and briefly squeezed her forearm. She appreciated the gesture. Feeling guilty for snapping at him, she flashed him a small apologetic smile.

"Sorry" she mouthed.

They stood in complete silence for almost a minute. The events of the accident were having a major impact, not only on them but on the entire magical world. The problem was that they never talked about it.

Subconsciously, they started walking back toward Harry's room.

"How are you?" He finally asked, breaking the unbearable silence.

"Would everyone stop asking me that?" She jerkily tucks her hair behind her left ear. "Three months. He's not dead. He's going to be just fine…" I hope so she whispered under her breath.

"I'm not like the others, 'Mione. I'm worried and I need to know, He's been in a coma for Three months….I just-" he trailed off, finding himself unable to finish.

"You can't lose hope now Ron. He'll be back."

Bright lights caused him to close his eyes exactly one second after he was first opened them. In the dark, his mind began to whir. His other sensations heightened.

Sight. Cross that one off. He knew it's bright; he was alone, and in St Mungo's.

Taste. There was mint from a toothpaste. His mouth was gummy, very gummy.

Smell. The hospital held a scent he was more than comfortable with. He could smell his body, which surprised him because he didn't smell like the soap he usually buys.

Hear. Voices from outside his private room told him that Ron and Hermione were the ones talking.

Touch. The bed sheets scratched against his skin, making him almost itchy. Reaching up to his face, he felt the growth. It was not abnormally long, which wasn't what gives him pause. It was unusually short.

He glanced, more out of habit than anything else, to where Harry's room was situated opposite where they stand. When he saw the hand move to the face, he started, his body moving without asking his brain what it was doing.

As Ron entered the room, his eyes finally peer open again. He almost said something before he saw her, standing by the end of the bed, frozen with shock. Her hair is astonishingly bushier than ever and cut just two inches past her shoulders. Even from this distance and despite the lack of his glasses, he can see the lines around her mouth and the beginning hint of a crease in her forehead. He wonders how she'd matured so quickly. He also wonders how she'd gained that plump bosom, barely hidden by her dark green blouse.

Soon after his best friends got inside the room, two more healers rushed inside, their wands already drawn.

"You did it Hermione." He heard Ron yelled in excitement. Something was not right he thought as Hermione didn't move from her place.

The healers were performing countless spell on him. His head felt heavy and he tried to sit up.

"What happened?"

There was a moment's hesitation as he closed his mouth, glancing at Hermione for - he thought- help?

"What was that?"

Harry sighed, frustrated as he began to leaned against the headboard.

Stop! He yelled at the healers. I'm fine. Just tell me what I'm doing here?

Ron didn't seem like he was going to give him an answer. So he looked at Hermione and asked her "what happened?"

Still no answer.

It was then that she must have gotten over her shock because she moved away from the end of the bed, which had hid most of her body. At first, it doesn't register.

She was Hermione. His best friend Hermione. 'Mione.

His mouth dropped open of its own accord and she stopped suddenly in the middle of the room, noticing his reaction. He could almost breathe her breaths, though it was utterly impossible.

The brightness of her face dims in one flashing moment. Hesitantly, her hands went to the sides her belly, swollen and round under the white healer's coat.

"What the bloody hell happened to me, Ron?"

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